Category: Filí my pockets
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The lasting work of blessed hands (pausing before a wall containing a thousand framed portraits of the owner’s hands, palms upturned, against paint-flecked black work slacks)
Only show respect to Aztec Gods Flensed men, malevolent bats and giant frogs You are low spec, floppy-ready Still making shop trips to buy credit Couldn’t install Age of Empires or browse the net Closing the net, feeling spenny might drop a rack or ten, whole fortunes In the back, more racks than a dungeon…
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Grown ass man’s shoes, never worn
Over 50s unmarried male Guaranteed to own a special plate Key meal times, can’t be changed Very picky, peas and potatoes no interplay What edges a relationship’s compromise sands down In a bachelor begins standing out Black-tie event, serving Sam the Clown from Sandown Manners ill becoming a man of your slim talents So many…
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Scrotes hating growth
Outgrew that old coat In this game you rarely get to be an old goat when you’re made That’s the game we play Walking along blades, dancing on flames Got them squirming over my earnings They had that, the worm turned And turned me to a master, journeymen Still on their journey, got the trophy…
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Hit that fatbody a few hard bodyshots and see how he feels (fearless mollywhopper for real)
Living like a duke My tunes making saloons rich off the juke Had a few, had something else in the loo Same colour as the stuff under Elsa’s shoe Nothing flukey about my lucre Nothing propish about this luger, proper Use it to prop up my profits Nailed to your bonce if hats aren’t doffed …
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Headless Banker’s Obelisk
Purge, removing works by other bards Burning them in the yard Like donut-tired stolen cars Two fiercely-clawed lions carved from prime stone, both barbary Boat party, two hopefuls both looking Barbie Cock ring by Carty, prove you can go that far then we party So much stuff, man apart, think I knew Jafar or was…
Alchemisland 